Split
by PrettyPrettyShinyShiny
Summary: Psyche Potter hasn't been having the best of times. But when she returns fifth year to regular attacks...Well, something bad was bound to happen right? She's been split into three different selves!
1. Chapter 1

**Disc.**\- I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER! _AS YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED!_

**So...This Story**\- Psyche Potter is my Fem!Harry. Subsequently, that means the three are girls too, but Flower is the actual horcrux. Or, has the horcrux is how I should word it- she _is not_ the soul piece by itself.

Bit of alcohol use!

**XXXXXXXXXX**

When she woke that morning, there was the faint feeling of foreboding, a sort of warning. But, she thought miserably, isn't it only natural that she'd feel that way? Voldemort...Voldemort returned. That wasn't even the most devastating- Cedric lay in a coma, the Ministry and thus it's followers refused her claims, and worse- she'd gotten no contact yet from either her friends or from Sirius. The Sirius thing hurt a bit more, since they were still kind of...New to the whole 'godfather/goddaughter' thing. She rubbed her face wearily, swinging her legs over the side of the cot to stand, wobbling slightly. _'Well, that's probably the hunger speaking._', she sighed blankly. The Dursleys ignored her, due to the letter she came home with from Dumbledore and Sirius showing up. Mostly thanks to Sirius. That meant she wasn't spoken to or really acknowledged. While it meant no chores or sneers or shouting, it also meant 'out of sight, out of mind'. Her meals were erratic and small not because of malice this year, but because she rarely ventured from her tiny room. Sometimes, though, at night she'd go tend to the gardens. It was the normalcy of the action and the way her mind didn't stray from 'weed, weed, weed, water flowers, weed, weed, weed, replace the delphinium they're dying'. It was mind-numbing. Soothing. Petunia had once stood at the darkened window. Just watching her. Psyche didn't acknowledge her, didn't even really register her presence. It created an odd sense of companionship in her rather solitary summer. Some nights the woman would be at the window, most she wasn't.

Psyche yawned. Nights spent in the garden did wonders for the flowers and envious neighbors, but not so much so for her health. Still, it was something to do. She'd already finished off her schoolwork, actually read from her textbooks, played around with her collection of Chocolate Frog cards (she liked getting the Lockhart ones and destroying them in creative ways- it stretched her imagination almost as much as Divination), tried to master juggling (and sort of succeeded- her books were kind of difficult though she got it, and the small pile of snitches she'd be given were pretty easy), and generally bothered Hedwig.

Speaking of the bird...

She grinned broadly, creeping closer. But before she could really get anywhere, Hedwig looked up from where she had her head tucked with a glare, silently admonishing her. Psyche offered a sheepish grin back, locking her hands behind her back. The owl huffed, fluffing slightly before settling back in for more sleep. She sighed explosively, twisting around and scratching absently at her stomach, debating on taking a shower now or later. Her showers were always short and to the point- fierce scrubbing and cleaning, equally efficient drying, dressing and boom! Done. She wandered across the few steps to the old creaky wardrobe, grabbing blindly at a shirt that didn't feel too raggedy, but worn enough to go about her day in extreme comfort. She sort of hated that she'd always been giving Dudley's cast-offs (especially since she was a _girl,_ goddamn it), but damned if some of them were perfect for lazing around in. A pair of shorts from when the blond was a small child worked as shorts that fit pretty well and she grabbed at her unders (thankfully, Petunia took care of that and actually bought them- even if they were cheap and crappy and fell apart easily) before pausing to listen closely to the house. She was pretty sure the muggles were out today, and will be out late too, but liked to make sure. She smiled triumphantly at the silence and left her room. The locks hadn't been removed, but they weren't used. Probably too lazy to actually take them off. She used the fluffiest towel she could find to scrub her hair dry. And burst into laughter at seeing her reflection immediately after. Once she managed to control her giggles, she made her way down to the kitchen to root through the fridge, taking a few green apples, two bottles of Dudley's pop, a fat slice of lemon cake and a number of tasty looking biscuits (again, Dudley's). She hummed somewhat cheerily as she took her finds to her room after snatching on of the mid-sized coolers Petunia kept for Dudley when he went out to play with his friends all day. She doesn't think he'd ever used any of them, not willing to lug something around when he can just as easily walk around to either steal other kid's snacks or go buy something.

That accomplished, she went down again to scout out the cabinets and pantry. As always, a multitude of goodies met her sight. She normally wasn't allowed to even gaze upon them for too long, only when making their food or fetching something for their meals. She grinned broadly as she reached out with greedy fingers.

xXx

Later, safely ensconced in her room with many, _many_ sugary treats that barely made a dent in the host of them downstairs, she worshiped whomever decided to create Cadbury eggs. How she loved them so. And even better, she had been able to grab a full armload! She licked chocolate from her fingers with a purr. While Honeydukes had some of the best candy she'd ever had (limited as her experience with candy in general was), she did love Cadbury. She sighed happily, sitting against her cot on the floor, surrounded by wrappers, a few open books and more sweets. Never did she say she was a particularly healthy young girl.

She took a swig from the thermos.

xXx

By the end of summer when they were to pick her up to get her books and whatnot, she was royally ticked off, at a slightly healthier (looking) weight, kind of dreading the upcoming school year (given how the last ended), could juggle four of her heaviest books at once without stumble (very proud of that, she was), she cleaned her wand properly three times, discovered the joys of mixing in a bit of alcohol with her tea, and she understood Lupin's addiction to chocolate. She ate away her feelings and they were _delicious_. She was still exceptionally scrawny though. One summer of almost nothing but sweets, it seemed, wasn't enough to help ten years and three summers of near-starvation and malnutrition. Arthur met her with a strained but genuine smile.

"Hello there, Psyche. Did you get the food we sent?", he asked with concern lacing every word. It was sort of a loaded question- _were you alright? Did they bother you? Have you been eating?_

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, thank you.", she smiled up, though her anger was still a little evident in her eyes. She'd received it with the rest of her presents. There wasn't much in way of letter, but at least they remembered her, she thought bitterly. She took the proffered hand after the patriarch shrunk her belongings so she could stuff them in the pocket of her robes. The squeeze of apparition made her cling harder as Arthur easily kept her on her feet. She was still too light.

"Psyche!", came the calls and she was abruptly tackled by both Ron and Hermione before she could reorient enough to even see Diagon. She glared at them both darkly when they finally let her out of their combined death-grip. Her silence and the look made both of them adopt anxious looks. Psyche wasn't one to typically keep grudges, but those who held those _special_ places in her heart weren't easily forgiven. Almost never forgotten. Sirius told her she got her grudges from her father, but with her mother's severity.

"Umm...", Ron mumbled, rubbing the back of his rapidly reddening neck. "Psyche, about this summer..."

"We...That is, we were..."

"Dumbledore said not to write!", Ron blurted, "Cause, well...", he bit his lips, fidgeting.

"The...You-Know-Who thing...", Hermione whispered.

"So, not a whisper from either of you all summer because of...'The you-know-who thing'.", she recited dully and Hermione winced at her own wording. With that, Psyche pushed past them to get to Madam Malkins, her two friends waiting a moment before trailing her silently. Arthur sighed, but let them go. There were two or three Order members following after them anyways to protect them.

Her two bestfriends knew not to talk to her yet. So they followed like lost puppies, through robes, books, Hedwig-shopping, potions supplies, and all the other things the list commanded. Soon she was ushered back to the Weasley household for the remaining week of freedom from schooling, where she was very warmly greeted. The twins in particular were especially glad to see her. Her anger at her two friends remained but she smiled and melted into their idle chatter and togetherness. Ginny offered, shyly, to paint her nails with the new polishes she was able to buy, some flashing strange colors every few moments, some with cute pictures on them, all enchanted.

Oh, how she had missed magic.

xXx

The train ride wasn't as tense a she'd have thought, with Ginny and Neville and Ginny's Ravenclaw friend in there with the trio. It was pretty nice, actually. Though Lovegood was kind of strange and kept staring at her. She was used to staring, of course, but this girl...It was like she could see into her past and into her future. The blonde smiled at her vacantly and she offered a slightly confused one back. It was all fine and dandy until Malfoy made his yearly trip to see the trio. The door slid open, and really, by now they should've learned to lock it, and who should stand there but Malfoy? Even looking at him drew her to boiling anger, her pent up frustration coiling tightly. She heard and felt the crackle of magic her fingers were sporting and it only egged her on.

"Well well, look what we have here.", he began haughtily, pointed chin tipped up in arrogance. _Looming vulture bastard_. "A whole gaggle of them."

"How is it, _Mal-foy_, that you always manage to find me on the train? Do you just go door to door, bursting in like that?", she bit out maliciously, eyes narrowing. Silvery gray eyes squinted down at her as a sneer tipped his lips, fists clenching at his sides. She stood up, hands still sparking to stomp over and grab the door, preparing to slam it shut in his face. His own hand shot out, keeping the door back. She glared up at him through malevolent eyes swirling with rage. He leaned down closer.

"What's the matter, little birdy? Not happy to see me? And here I thought you'd welcome a friendly face. Especially with the Prophet's latest news about you and _Bumble_dore.", he sneered and she barely restrained herself from reaching just a little closer to bite his pointy nose off of his pointy face. He smirked at her smugly and leaned back, keeping the door open as Ron finally stood up, unwilling to sit silently as he had been for the entire ride in an attempt to appease his tiny friend.

He moved behind her and watched with a feral glare as Malfoy backed away a little. Ron had gotten even taller over summer, and had almost half a foot on Malfoy, looming as the blond prick was. However, he was the same height as Gregory Goyle, who seemed to note the threat Ron posed. That only made Psyche angrier- that she wasn't considered a threat and she snarled, grabbing Malfoy's pristine robes and yanking him down to smash and break his nose against her forehead.

He let out a strange, strangled sort of garble-yelp noise, reeling back with his hands covering his face and wide eyes shocked as he looked down at her, back hitting against the door opposite. She gave him a viciously smug smile in response, teeth flashing threateningly before shutting the door. She reached up to wipe away a small splatter of blood. She looked up and over her shoulder at Ron, who stared down at her in surprise, but not all too much. Before he grinned at her excitedly.

"That was almost as good as when 'Mione got 'im in Third!", he grabbed her in a tight hug, easily picking her up off the ground. She huffed, squirming in his hold. They were forgiven.

But their offense would not be forgotten. The rest of the ride were Ron and Hermione happily taking the rest of the conversation to speak to her, the others barely able to get a word in edgewise.

xXx

She slumped in her seat when she saw the vile looks most of the others were sending her, not even watching as the First-Years were sorted and clapping shallowly. She didn't look up from her plate once as Ron and Hermione acted as guards, glaring at everyone who dared to set an unfriendly gaze upon her. Which was quite a lot of people, and a number of them from her own House. If she weren't so...She wouldn't say afraid, more like...Well she couldn't think of the right word, but if she weren't so clearly, blatantly hated by a majority of the people in the hall, she'd have snorted derisively. _'House __is __family, my arse.'_, she poked and prodded at the food Neville had subtly set in front of her. At least she had her Weasleys, Hermione and Neville. When it came time to go up to their dorms, the Weasley twins materialized beside her, slightly grim but smiling all the same.

"Lots of pranks this year.", George smiled strangely.

"So many.", the two shared a dark look before their gazes moved to the students who still looked in her direction, sneers or anger or sometimes pity and even fear. It was Second Year all over again. The whispers, of course, were never quiet enough.

It wasn't until the next week the first hex flew.

xXx

By the break, her hand was permanently scarred, people regularly shot curses and jinxes and hexes at her, and the Weasley twins' pranks have been getting steadily more vicious and targeted at the worst of her tormentors. The reprieve to the Weasleys was a welcome. Her mail was screened to make sure it wasn't more hate-mail, or cursed. When they got back, not even a week after Dumbledore was gone. Hagrid, Trelawney, and she tried to get rid of Filius. She blocked the majority of it out. She learnt her lesson from Second Year. The only real problem came when someone- didn't get to find out _who_ in the confusion- used a highly unstable spell that was apparently mispronounced on her...

xXx

The smoke that came up and billowed around made several people cough until there was a loud roar of anger.

"You bloody _WANKERS! IF ONE MORE BLOODY PERSON SHOOTS ANOTHER __**BLOODY**__ SPELL AT ME, SOMEONE'S __NECK IS __GONNA __SNAP__!"_, the harsh thundering voice was still feminine but the utterly black rage had people backing away immediately. The teen that came out of the smoke _looked_ like Psyche Potter, but...Not?

Her hair seemed blown back, maybe from the spell, and her robes were a bit torn. The scowl on her face promised pain and possibly maiming as she snarled. It was almost demonic. The smoke began to dissipate and two more figures were soon silhouetted.

"Hoo! Well _that_ was a trip wasn't it?", came a bright voice. "Are we all in one piece?", a second girl came out with a bright smile, green eyes looking about curiously. The two Psyches eyed one another in shock for a moment. "Well...", the second blinked a few times. "Apparently not.", the other one's eyes narrowed at her with a savage growl.

"Psy-Psyche?", Hermione stepped closer cautiously. Two sets of green looked at her, one aggravated and malevolent, the other bright and curious. The less friendly one snarled at her, turning her head away dismissively. Hermione felt a sting of hurt, but that was easily pushed aside as the other one grinned brightly at her and tackled her in a hug. The brunette was almost knocked over. Not from her weight (she was very small), but from the shock of it- Psyche almost never initiated physical affection, and was often awkward about prolonged contact. This Psyche seemed to have no such reservations.

"Look! There's another,", Ron offered up and Hermione remembered the third figure. The small crowd around them looked over, along with the two Potters. Wide green eyes looked around, growing more flustered and panicked as attention swiveled to her. Her hands were protectively in front of her chest, fingers fiddling nimbly. Her head ducked in mortification, hair sliding forward defensively. Where the angry Potter's hair seemed sort of windblown, and the second's more wavy, this one's was curly. It was interesting to see. It was around this time that Umbridge's squad came around to see what the big fuss was and to dole out unfair punishments.

The resulting flurry of activity was chaotic.

xXx

Angry-Potter was grumbling, arm held in Pomfrey's capable hands as she healed the cuts, glaring around sullenly. Bubbly-Potter was humming cheerfully, playing with some sort of magic version of a Rubik cube, and Fluttery-Potter was cowering in her cot, knees drawn up and trying to avoid any and all attention as Neville and Hermione tried to calm the frenzied breathing she had. The beds were closer than they would normally be, and soon enough Professors burst in, including Umbridge. Angry's glare gained searing heat as she stared at the woman flouncing closer, the other professors crowding in behind her.

"What on Earth-?", Minerva gasped when she noticed them. Bubbly grinned broadly, a jaunty little wave accompanying the look as Angry grunted in acknowledgment and the third shrunk in on herself a little bit more. Ron and Hermione began babbling at once, Neville trying to coax the third into calming down a bit since the sudden appearance of the professors sent her into another hysteric breathing fit.

"Quiet!", Umbridge snapped before smiling with sickly sweetness. "One at a time, dears."

"We were hit by a spell of unknown origin, probably with malicious intent and are now separated in three distinct versions of ourself.", Bubbly offered up before either of her two friends could draw in the air to try talking again.

"Some cunt attacked us, you mean.", Angry growled. _"__Again."_, she glared a them broodingly. "Why the hell this school is still even open is beyond me."

"Miss Potter!"

"Which one?", she snarked back, a snort on her lips. "Bit of _negligence_ calls for the appropriate language, don't you think?", she hissed with exaggerated sweetness, arms crossing over her chest defiantly.

"Detention."

"If one of us gets in trouble, d'you think we all get in trouble? We're the same person, but we're not at the same time.", Bubbly asked musingly, not really addressing any one person. "And what about our stuff? Are we legally considered one person or separate people? Do we all have the same traits and abilities, or have they changed priorities now that we've been split up? Do we all hold the same beliefs? We were contradictory on a good day, so what does that make us now? Are we just three major components of ourself, or are we now entirely different?", she rattled off, a look of deep analyzation settling into her easy open features. "This is quite a conundrum. I suppose though that there must be some sort of precedent set what, with all the mishaps magic offers.", she mumbled along, already deep in thought.

"She raises a good point,", Neville said, quiet as always as he looked between them all nervously as Fluttery yanked the sheet over herself.

"Oh, I wish the Headmaster were here...", Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples worriedly. Umbridge's eyes narrowed as the toad-like woman smiled with even more false kindness.

"Don't worry, 'Mione, I'm sure it'll all turn out right.", Bubbly smiled at her reassuringly.

"No it won't, it never does! Or have the last few years just slipped your mind?"

"We made it out with reasonable sanity intact.", she shrugged and Angry let out a frustrated noise, ragged and ticked off.

"Now now, girls. I'm sure the Ministry will be more than happy to take care of any legal matters regarding-", Umbridge practically purred and Angry's head whipped around to face her.

"_Hell_ no!", she bared her teeth savagely, swinging her legs to the ground to stand up, bristling. "If _anyone_ is going through things that are _ours_ or about _us- _it's either the Goblins or- oh, who else now? _US!"_, she roared, making them all step back- excluding Poppy, who just tsked before going to tend to Fluttery with a calming potion.

"The Ministry-", the woman spluttered in outrage.

"Has no say over anything of ours.", Bubbly spoke up, looking a bit more serious. Before dissolving into another smile. "Which reminds me- Skeeter needs to be formally investigated."

"Skeeter?", Ron frowned confusedly.

"Yes, for slander of an orphaned minor.", she smiled again. "'S dangerous business, the kind she's involved in. Now then, I'm going to the library. Would you care to assist me, 'Mione?", she asked the other girl, and she gave a stunned nod.

"Ms. Potter-"

"Tch. I'm outta here. Weasley! C'mon, we're going to the pitch.", Angry threw out next, shoving her way past. "Stupid adults never do anything right.", she growled. Fluttery was slinking her way out as well, almost unnoticed had Neville not been following worriedly.

"Get back here!"

"Make us, you old hag-toad!", came another snarl and she spluttered again, face gaining an unsightly red hue.

"Detention! Detention, _all of you!"_, she shrieked. Angry froze a moment.

"That reminds me,", she growled, low and guttural and she twisted, stalking closer with blazing green eyes. The woman stood her ground, glaring until the smaller teen was in her personal space. She raised up her left hand and the silvery scars into the woman's face. "I see that quill of yours again, and I will be planting it _in your beady little eyes_ before any of ditz's _'legal action'_ can put you away, d'you understand me you fat toadstool?"

"Det-"

The hard blow to the side of her head made her crumple to the ground. "You have no bloody authority over me.", she turned her wild, feral gaze on the other professors, _"None_ of you do.", she sneered at them in disgust before once more stalking away, grabbing Ron's robes to drag him out with her.

xXx

"She's a menace!", Severus snapped as he planted his hands on the long meeting table. Umbridge was currently out at the Ministry, filing a complaint against the Potters, so they at least didn't have to deal with her right now in their staff meeting. "She attacked a staff member- and disrespected all the others! She's been skipping class, provoking other students, breaking as many rules as she can, disregarded every warning and detention and-"

"Don't worry so much, Professor.", the professors jumped and looked over to see Bubbly leaning against the wall and smiling at them brightly. "We'll be leaving soon anyways. We've decided to withdraw from Hogwarts, what with all the attacks on our persons, not to mention all the misadventures that we've gone on. It's just easier to leave the school altogether, especially when we start pressing charges and the upcoming trials we'll be involved in."

"Ms. Potter, what are you-", Minerva gasped, still processing everything that just came out of her mouth. Hermione suddenly appeared beside her, anxious as she clutched the invisibility cloak.

"We've been researching magical laws and regulations and comparing them to the things Psyche has been exposed to and- well..."

"There's a _lot_ to answer for.", Bubbly said brightly. "Just thought we'd swing by and let you know."

"You can't just-", Severus snarled but was cut off.

"The papers have already been given the Ministry seal of approval,", she unrolled a parchment from her bag. "We just need to wait for a representative to show up and we'll be going to Gringotts and then to a secret location to await the trials.", she smiled again.

"Ms. Potter, I can't condone-", Minerva was interrupted just as her colleague was. This time by a new voice- well, not new...

"You don't have to _'condone'_ anything.", at the doorframe stood Angry, leaning there with her arms crossed over her chest and an intimidating sneer on her face. "You gave up any responsibility we had to you when you disregarded all of our concerns through the last three years. Knew I should've let the bloody hat put me in Slytherin.", she muttered darkly. "Not that it would've helped much,", she glared at Snape.

"Anyways, don't worry- none of you should be involved with the first cases, though you might be called in for the ones regarding the trials we had through our school years, but none of you will be in any actual trouble. That's mostly against the actual Ministry and those ones will be dealt with by the International Confederation of Wizards.", Bubbly rattled off before stopping herself and smiling at them again. "But that's neither here nor there."

"Ms. Potters,", came the smooth, cultured greeting and they looked over. A Ministry official stood at the door, Fluttery just behind him. "If you are ready?"

"'Bout time.", Angry muttered, standing to go over after one final glare over her shoulder at them.

"Write often, 'Mione,", Bubbly kissed her cheek affectionately, "And remind the others, would you?" before bouncing off and ignoring the noise beginning to develop as the professors started to argue. The man and three girls ignored them though and soon they were gone through the fireplace in the next room. Hermione snuck out as they began to dissolve into confusion and anger, already thinking out the letter she'll be sending back to her parents.

xXx

"So we'll need actual separate names.", Bubbly smiled. "We can't _all_ be Psyche."

"And I suppose you've already picked out a name for yourself.", Angry said dryly. She nodded happily.

"Dorado!", she grinned at them.

"Just as bonkers as you are,", Angry scoffed. She grinned again, leaning back in the chair she was in. They were sitting in Gringotts as the Goblins and a few human workers were pouring over their files and claims in another room as they sat in an office with an old, _very_ old Goblin.

"It's the goldfish constellation!"

"Of course it is."

"What about you two? Thought of any names?"

"I don't bloody _care _about my name, fishface.", she snarled, aggravated. "Just pick one for me."

"Belinda?"

"What? No, that's disgusting!"

"No? Hm. Veronica? Trixie? Bella? Kayla?"

"No!", she snapped.

"Aubrey?", she paused, considering it as she squinted at the other girl.

"Maybe.", she said slowly before waving her on, "Keep going."

"You got it! Octavia? Kim? Nicolette? Anastasia? Cleo?"

"What kind of name is Nicolette?", she scoffed. Dorado smiled wide.

"A French one.", she told her before going on, "Mimi? Jean? Linda? Maryann? Nikki? Bev-"

"Wait! Nikki?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. N-i-k-k-i. Nikki. Do you like that one?", the wavy-haired teen leaned closer. Angry sighed, slumping back into her chair to stare up at the ceiling in thought.

"...Yeah, I guess that one's good.", the newly designated Nikki muttered with a huff. Dorado grinned again before turning to the third of their trio.

"And what about you?"

"Wh-what?", she startled, eyes going wide. "O-oh, I haven't really...Really thought about it..."

"Well did you like any of the other names I said?"

"I guess...", she squirmed in her seat.

"But is there something else?"

"Something...Something to do with...Flowers?", she blushed fiercely, head tilting forward again to create a barrier with her hair.

"Oh! For mum? Alright, let's see what I can come up with...Lilac? Daisy? Poppy, Peony, Posy?"

"This is getting annoying,", Nikki growled, turning to the timid one of them. "Why not just Flower?", both blinked at her.

"Flower? Flower...", Dorado hummed. "Well, it is simple.", she shrugged before looking again. "What do you think of it?"

"O-okay?", she questioned, shrinking back.

"Then it's decided! Dorado, Nikki and Flower!", she clapped her hands together. "Middle names next!"

xXx

The next few weeks were filled with chaos as the general public heard about what was going on- from Psyche being attacked on a regular basis with no interference from professors, to being split into three, to Umbridge and her blood quills, to the Potter trio's withdrawal and their upcoming trials. It was hectic, and really, if anyone asked the three girls, only Dorado would be able to give any definite answers. Figuratively and literally, as Nikki was more likely to hex or snub whoever decided to be brave enough to question her and Flower would probably fall silent in anxiety. Though that was perfectly fine, as it were. The three were taken care of by Dorado- Vaults, businesses, the entirety of the legal matters of being the Heiress to a powerful Pureblood line was in Dorado's hands. Public appearances would also be her forte- should they ever have them. For now, they rested back, content. Or, Dorado was serene, Flower was sort of calm, and Nikki was quite aggravated.

"You think we should have seen Paddy?", Dorado asked and Nikki snorted, opening one eyes to stare at her balefully.

"If you want to talk to that fuckin' bastard, you go right ahead. Count me out.", she turned so her back was to the bright girl. Said girl shrugged, turning to Flower, who startled.

"O-oh, I don't thi-think I could...Possibly...", she trailed off nervously, curling and ducking her head into her knees protectively.

"Alright, alright. So...What should we do now?", she asked them.

"Get outta this country. I'm sure as hell not stickin' around to deal with some psycho, 'specially when no one takes us seriously 'bout it!", Nikki told them gruffly, glancing back over her shoulder with sharp eyes. Most wouldn't see it, but her eyes were tropical green. Just like how Dorado's eyes were bright leafy green, and Flower's were pale, soul-digging killing curse green. It was amazing, Dorado mused, that they were the same bodies, expressed in different personalities. Their voices were the same, but totally different. Her own voice was bright and bubbly, her laugh was infectious and charismatic. Nikki's voice was usually husky and low, kind of guttural, but she could just as easily roar in her thundering bellows. Even her laugh was rough and rugged. And then little Flower, voice soft and small and hesitant, like a little bird's soft cries. The one time they'd heard her laugh, it was bell-like and reminded Dorado of chimes in the wind.

Dorado wondered what kind of changes they'll go through as they get older. How much they'll change and differ from one another.

"S-so where sho-should we go?", Flower's question, tremulous and meek brought the wavy-haired girl back.

"It would probably be best if we split up.", Dorado supplied. "All three Potters in the same area? We may be one person, sort of, but we're too different to be able to stay in one place together. We're a volatile trio."

"Wh-what? Bu-but-!", Flower looked terrified and Dorado immediately set her hands on her shoulder soothingly, rubbing up and down her arms.

"Don't worry! We'll help you find somewhere.", she turned to her other sister, "We should decide on places to go first. We should always know where the others are.", she glanced between them. "Deal?"

xXx

"Greece! Ah, it's so lovely~!", Dorado spun in place. She beamed at the House-Elves who took her trunk. She'd bought an entire wardrobe full of warm weather clothes, and almost a third of it was made up of swimming suits. She'd even cut her hair before arriving, and now it reached just below her ears. Her floppy hat protected her eyes from the sun, and her summery dress was flowing in a slight wind as she looked up at the manor that would act as her main home. She smiled brightly. Thanks to some rather handy wards, the small island she lived on was entirely hers- she didn't have to share~! Unless, of course, her sisters wanted to come visit. She would never deny herself, after all. She smiled to herself. Fifteen, and they were already living on their own. That took quite a few strings to be pulled and a small fortune to the Goblins but that was alright. Their wealth would grow even more under her guidance. Her father, evidently, hadn't been the kind to take care of investments and the like, letting them sit idle. Dorado's grin became almost feral.

Well, she would certainly revive the Potter's interaction with business.

But for now, she would relax for a little while and figure out what she wanted to do with her life besides the mouth-piece and legal counselor for the Potter Trinity.

She smiled brightly. Well...As a goldfish...She should be able to swim pretty damn good! So, she'll do swimming as a pastime, and she'll work from there~! That wasn't so hard!

She would train her swimming first, she thought excitedly, already making a dash for the master suite with a wide, wild smile on her face. Oh, yes. This was definitely the start of something good~!

xXx

Nikki scowled darkly, narrowing her gaze at the posters. She was, at current, in Russia. She knew she wouldn't be the type to stick around for very long in one place though. She huffed, grabbing three of the posters. Well, if fishface was going to take care of the family businesses and stocks, she supposed she could add some money too. Besides- being a bounty-hunter sounds like too much fun to pass up. She grinned savagely under her scarf. Fifteen she may be, but she'll make sure that no one doubts her lethality, the threat she poses and the danger she exudes. And she'll have a fuckin' _ball_ doing it, too.

When she entered the cramped apartment she'd decided on (nothing permanent), she pulled off her thick robes, the fur hat and scarf, and the two pairs of gloves. She refused to use heating charms. She would strengthen not only her reputation and magical prowess, but her body as well. She rubbed at her short hair. It was short, spiky and boyish, and it made her smile at the feel as she stripped to look at her reflection critically. She had always been tiny. But that didn't mean that she had no capability or muscles. Quidditch from her first four years kept her- well enough, she supposed. But she could be stronger. She knew she could. She took a deep breath before glaring hard into her reflection.

She wasn't some weak little girl. None of them were, really. But she would be the one to really hammer that home. She knew she had more potential, and she was going to use it. For now, though...

She turned back to her crummy bed, where she'd dropped her heavy clothes. She yanked the posters out, examining the faces and information about the men. She chose four of the posters- all of them dead or alive. Her grin was bloodthirsty and it made her eyes bright and they gleamed. Nikki wouldn't ever lie and say she was a good, moral person. She was the anger, bitterness, and resentment. The need to be seen and heard, and taken seriously as a threat. Her path is _power_. And as long as she was getting that power, amassing it and collecting, and refining it, she didn't care if she killed or not. Their souls were separate, after all, meaning it was okay for her to kill. It wouldn't affect her 'sisters', as fishface was fond of calling the three of them.

She grinned as she pinned one of the posters up with a sharp, ornate dagger. One she got from the Potter Vaults, one special to the Potter line. Oh, yeah. First victim.

xXx

Flower sighed, still jittery, but calmer than she'd been since the split. There were no people around, and she was safely ensconced in the woods, up in some gentle mountainside. There was only the forest and the animals. And, her lips pulled in a small smile, her garden. All around the cabin, the ground had been tilled for her to plant to her heart's content. Dorado had been kind enough to inform the two Elves that would stay with her that she enjoyed planting, and she had seen them only twice. She would get used to them eventually, enough to maybe see them daily. She fiddled with the seeds she had. A small shed nearby was filled with different kinds of seeds, and many herbology books. Even muggle botany books. She smiled in excitement, almost shaking with her enthusiasm. It made her so happy!

And she already received letters. She felt much better with letters than people. She wasn't alone, and she wasn't crowded either. What a wonderful feeling...

She knelt delicately, digging a dainty hand into the soil. It was fine, and felt almost silky. She smiled again. Her face almost hurt with how she was smiling so much. Maybe she could even have a pet...

It had been decided that Dorado would keep Hedwig. She smiled a little. Maybe she'd get a Snidget...

**XXXXXXXX**

Next chapter will be a time-skip~! Do you li~ke this story so far? I do...SO TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL~!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disc.**\- I still don't own Harry Potter!

**This Story...**\- So here's chapter two~! The girls are seventeen now when they're called back to England. You'll also note that Flower is the one that has the 'obsessive' trait. Oh! And this chapter will have some **Mature** content. Not too much, I don't think. It also has references to slave rings and prostitution.

**XXXXXXXX**

Nikki sighed as she slunk into her current gritty apartment, peeling off blood soaked Acromantula silk gloves. Being a Hitwitch was probably the best choice she'd ever made. The last two, almost three years of her life had been blissfully free of any of the people she used to see, and very rarely did anyone aside from her sisters send letters. Nikki was content. No extra baggage from clingy ex-classmates, no reporters trying to track her down, no disapproving letters or howlers, and best of all- she'd made a name for herself as a Hitwitch! No one messed with her now, no one shrugged her off as a threat!

A smile curled her lips as she carefully shrugged her robe off and then reached behind her to unzip the bodysuit she wore as she placed herself in front of her mirror. She smirked as her scarred skin appeared. She was clumsy at first, her targets fighting back, but she'd learnt from her mistakes. Her body wasn't as measly as it was before either. She had abs, she had muscles- not disgustingly veiny or buff, but enough that the muscle could be seen in her movements, under her bodysuit or one of her tight t-shirts. She hummed, stroking her hands over slightly rough skin, fingers and palms brushing over raised scars and lines and burns before turning to take a scolding hot shower.

She'd go out tonight on the pull, find some pillock and screw his brains out. It was something she did whenever she got into a bloodbath like she did earlier- it helped calm her hype down. Her showers were just as quick and just as unforgiving as they were before, except now she had spells to shampoo her hair, soap her body and shave away unwanted hair. She also had spells for drying herself off. Not _too_ long ago, she'd shaved the sides of her head, giving her a mohawk. She didn't bother spiking it up- it sort of did that on it's own. It'd been long enough, though, that a black layer covered what _was_ shaven clean. Nikki decided she liked it well enough before stepping back into her main room naked as she stretched languidly. She squirmed into tight dragonhide pants before fishing out a black, skin-tight sleeveless turtleneck. After that was done, she plopped down onto her bed to pull on four inch heeled boots that rose up to her knees.

Nikki knew that fishface didn't really approve of her one-night-stands (Nikki didn't think she had room to talk- the wavy-haired girl preferred having little cutesy boytoys- _from slavetraders) _but Nikki always waved her off. Nikki didn't _want_ relationships.

Dorado suggested she set up some sessions with a Mind Healer about her apparent 'issues' with getting close to other people and her 'destructive' nature, but when did Nikki ever listen to ol' fins advice about mental health?

Never.

Because Dorado was a _fucking nutter._

Just as she was about to wrench open her door to go out, get sloshed and get fucked, something scratched at her window. She groaned in annoyance, twitching slightly. She glared back at Hedwig, who sent her a chastising look. She cursed under her breath, stalking over to yank the window open. The pristine white owl flew in gracefully, perching on the back of a chair with a soft hoot. Nikki glared at her before gently untying the letter. Hedwig nipped at her fingers lightly before flying out. Nikki twisted her lips doubtfully, shutting her window before going to her bed to sprawl out. She frowned when she saw Dorado's flowing script before sighing, using one of her carefully cultivated claws to rip the letter open.

xXx

Flower stared at the screen fixedly, fingers flying deftly over it as she read through the latest post. It was a Potions Mistress' blog, and she put up experimental potions that she made. They were controversial and would be labeled illegal in the more Light-inclined places- not that Flower had any care, really, with law. While Dorado bent it to her will, and Nikki was in line (considering her occupation, she needed to be careful outside of her job to keep governments off her back), Flower disregarded laws entirely, just as they did as Psyche regarding rules.

How she was the one to end up with that trait, she didn't know.

She still had social anxiety issues, but now she lived in a small community of others with the same problem. They didn't talk to one another, and rarely saw eachother, but it was enough to create a sort of companionship. They were also in the mountains of Canada, where some of her neighbors were able to indulge in illegal breeding and experimentation. Flower was one such person- she had several degrees, from several of the places she'd traveled to and from, in Herbology, Potions, Healing, and classes pertaining to magical creatures. She typically only played around with her plants and potions though, keeping her pets from such things for fear of damaging them somehow. A soft little chirp distracted her for a moment and she looked up from her desk (where seven different screens floated around). The only pet she allowed in her potions lab was...

"Chryses?", she murmured. The snidget chirped again, zipping closer to her. Flower frowned slightly, squinting at her screen and gasping at the date and time. She shot up, running to one of the potion cauldrons set in the room and pulled off the stasis spell.

The only times, she reflected briefly, when she was calm was when she was engrossed in a project, or tending to her gardens. Otherwise, she was just as stilted and hesitant and shy as always. A sudden ping on one of the wizard-web (she'd learnt that the muggles have something similar but more primitive- the _'internet'_) screens distracted her briefly as she finished the potion. She smiled at the bluish-gray color, delicately filling large round vials with it before setting the cauldron over on a special table for the House elves to clean.

She moved back to the screens, tapping on the holographic image to find a message from Dorado. She blinked, opening it.

And feeling her anxiety and fear slam into her so suddenly she almost staggered to the ground. She felt a wave of nausea try to entice her into giving up what meager food she had yesterday morning. She gave in.

xXx

Dorado frowned. It wasn't an expression the seventeen year-old used often, but she felt the situation appropriate. Being asked to go back to Britain was...Well. It was simply blasphemous. She snapped her fingers and one of her boys knelt in front of her, head tilted down and dressed scantily in only a small bit of fabric around his hips, just like the rest of her boys. She spread her legs and he leaned forward, gently pulling her knickers down and pressing his lips against her as she hooked a leg over his shoulder, rolling her hips slightly. She hummed, running one hand through his hair as she held the letter with the other, scrutinizing it.

The letter itself was from Ginny Weasley, but Ron and Hermione had a play in writing, and the signatures at the bottom were presumably from what had become of the Order of the Phoenix. Since Albus mysteriously disappeared after resigning from the Confederation of Wizards and Headmaster of Hogwarts, Britain was even more manic when the news of Voldemort's return had been made public. War ravaged little, seeing that he had already taken subtle control of the Ministry, replaced Hogwarts professors with his own followers and managed to break out his imprisoned Death Eaters. What resistance there was, was stomped out dispassionately. Threats, bribery and foul play made the new regime.

There were still those who fought, of course. Like her old friends, their families, those who believed in equality and freedom. Whose wills were strong enough. His control was almost complete though and everyday the members of the Order were in danger. This was the first time she'd received a letter from any of them in quite some time. She'd already told her sisters to come to her about it so they could properly discuss it.

She shuddered briefly when his tongue slid inside slowly, pushing deep. She ran her fingers through his hair in approval, spreading her legs a bit wider before returning her attention to the situation at hand. She was slightly torn- she had a career and a life outside of Britain. She and her sisters were quite happy that way. But, they were her friends, and if Voldemort conquers Britain he'll turn his attention to the rest of Europe, and to the Potter Trinity.

But again- she was a Quidditch star, an investor, and she often worked with the Goblins that made up the Potter legal team. She didn't necessarily want to get involved in the mess that was Britain right now. Her hips rolled when the older boy slipped in two fingers and her legs twitched. She twirled a long strand of his dark, almost black auburn hair. She tilted her head back thoughtfully. Nikki wouldn't want to, nor would Flower. What to do in such a situation...

Her swimming and Quidditch toned body stretched languidly, shuddering as he pressed in a third finger. Nikki could be convinced with the prospect of killing in creative ways and inspiring more fear. She'd resist at first, stew in her indignant anger, and then reluctantly agree. Flower would be a bit more difficult. Perhaps the thought of helping others (which she wanted to do so _very_ much but never had the courage to), maybe put her healing skills to good use, not to mention her Potions skills so it wouldn't fall entirely on the old bat of the dungeons. Who was, at current, apparently Headmaster.

She caressed his jaw tenderly as he twisted his fingers in a delightful way. She set the letter down, pulling her thigh off of him and he obeyed her command, leaning back to let her stand. She cast an absent cleaning charm to get rid of the stain that had grown on the seat before trailing her fingers through his hair. "Up.", she commanded blithely and he followed her to her pillow room.

xXx

The Seventh Years had just gotten through getting their Marks, and now stood at the back of the room, not yet excused. Voldemort scanned his followers, knowing each mask and which face hid behind it. He knew who were parading as Purebloods, knew who only followed him out of fear, who followed him out of boredom, who followed him for a chance to hurt and destroy other people, other humans or creatures. There weren't many that were faithful to the original cause. Pureblood supremacy. He crucioed Higgins, if only because the man was leering at the younger, newly inducted members, adding a silencing charm as an afterthought so that he could properly listen to Warrington's report. Two more of the Order, measly little ragtag group it'd been whittled down to, had been captured.

Voldemort was in a remarkably calm mood. Which meant he was contemplating the Potters. The girls were carefully tracked by his teams, and they made no real effort to hide from him- and he was still able to mentally connect with one of them, which had piqued his interest. Even more so when what he saw was a skittish anxiety-ridden slip of a girl. Though she became oddly professional and absorbed in her work, whatever it may be, becoming slightly neurotic. Even more was her complete disregard to laws and regulations, and the unspoken ethical laws most people were bound by. Though according to reports, the Hitwitch of the three was at all times immoral, and the third twisted around laws and regulations and even participated in slave rings and the like. He had played with the idea, through the past three years, of asking one of them to join him. Of course, that was after he'd absorbed two more of his horcruxes and seemed to steady out a little bit more and properly think. He'd decided, however, to leave the girls be unless they decide to return at the behest of their once-close friends. He wondered how they would react if they knew of the Potter girls' rather shady and sometimes blatantly Dark tendencies.

He also wondered how the girls would react if he offered them places among his own. Too proud, perhaps, to take such positions without sufficient incentive, though the fidgety one shouldn't be too difficult to bully into his service. Especially if he offers her proper solitude and complete access to his libraries. He leant back, gaze drifting to the Seventh Years. Her yearmates. _Their_ yearmates. The Malfoy spawn, of all of them, had been the one who had been in most contact with her when she'd yet been only a single girl.

The blond had never hated her. After all, hate observes with more care than love, and the child hadn't even known just how skinny, how malnourished the girl was. The boy was jealous of being turned down by her when he offered his hand from what Lucius had told him. What a _vain_ boy he was. Voldemort was sure he got it from his mother, and Bellatrix was the first to sneer about her youngest sister's self-absorbed nature. Why the woman hadn't taken the Mark proper, so as not to _mar_ her perfect porcelain skin. He returned his attention to the soon to be graduates. The majority of the students had little to no actual interaction with Potter. He turned his contemplation to the adults in her life. The muggle family that kept her were dead, all information taken forcibly and shredding their minds in the violent process. Lucius, as a member of the School Board had access to her Hogwarts records- and weren't they quite an interesting read? Her little misadventures ranged from comical to lethal. His mind wandered and he wondered if they'd ever thought of writing an autobiography. He wondered how the three girls would write one, in their three distinct views?

What a curious thought indeed. He crucioed another follower for snickering at something inappropriately, another silencing spell cast.

Three people from one. Traits and mentalities magnified, stemming off the more time they spent as separate people. There were similar cases of course, magic being the fickle thing it is, but she was made so much more interesting for being his _'equal'._

Ah, yes. The Prophecy. He wondered how it would turn out now? She is now three. Truly, both of them were...Fractured. Although they (presumably) don't have the same loophole immortality he had gained. Through his extensive studies and numerous dangerous rituals that have taken many of his more...Human characteristics. No matter, though. He leaned back in his massive (to support his unnaturally large body) throne placidly. Yes, he was quite relaxed at the moment, though that can change as quickly as the years had, slipping from him.

xXx

Ginny was crying, Hermione trying and failing to keep her own grief at bay as she hugged the younger girl. Neville was taken in the latest skirmish, and the likelihood of his survival was...

Well. Their tears weren't unwarranted. Ron stoically poked at the small fire in the hearth. The latest meeting had been even more depressing with the knowledge that another two of their team were taken. The youngest male Weasley was staring resolutely into the fire, determined not to show emotion over the revelation. He fervently hoped Dorado received the letter, that it wasn't intercepted or tossed aside. He wasn't sure how long they could go on if they didn't step in somehow. _Do_ something. He knew Dorado didn't like to get meddled so much in British affairs, that Nikki was glad to be rid of her homeland, and that Flower was content to stay _far away_ from other people. None of them were happy about their choices, but what could they do? If they pushed, they would never come back, never help them. So they'd sent a request. Ron's jaw clenched. That they had gone from being bestmates, always having one another's back, always there and ready to fight to practically _begging_...

He breathed through his nose harshly, shutting his eyes. They'd never found out who threw the curse that ruined everything. He suspected Dorado knew- and administered her own revenge or blackmail. Yes, Ron knew Dorado dabbled in the darker things. Knew she owned numerous male sex slaves. Knew that sometimes, she would go watch the Grecian underground fights- ones that resulted in death, a form of amusement for the corrupt powers and those rich enough. He knew it all. Dorado was frank when she had written, though it didn't often occur. Ron was mostly disgusted, but brushed that aside. Nikki was...She killed, indiscriminately, for a living. She'd killed pregnant mothers, she'd killed children, innocents, babes in their cribs with their parents in the other room. She had no moral compass to speak of. He'd even heard rumors she'd slaughtered three different, small villages. She just didn't care for anything but the hunt, the fear, the power she held. She did keep to laws though, strict ones so as to keep her job. She was a government-employed Hitwitch after all, though she took jobs from all sorts. Flower skipped all laws, having a blatant disregard for them. While Dorado had written that she was too attached to her animals to perform..._Experiments, _she might not be so hesitant regarding humans and Beings if the option ever came to her.

He wondered how Psyche would have turned out if she had stayed one person. Maybe she'd have married into the family. Maybe she'd have married _him_.

But he couldn't think thoughts like those, now could he? Psyche _was_ split and she would never be who she- who _they_ were. He opened his eyes slowly, emotionally drained but hard enough that he could continue his stoic upkeep of the fire.

xXx

"No.", Nikki scowled, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly, harshly booting the boy Dorado had directed to her. The older teen skittered back, but stood and bowed deeply before he slunk back against Dorado's line-up of toys. Flower fidgeted, legs drawn up to her skinny scrawny body in the large round chair, anxiously watching the unmoving blond sent her way, kneeling beside her chair. Dorado had her legs crossed, entwined hands on her knee and a boy at either side of her.

"Oh? You'd ignore the chance for free slaughter and massacre? Death Eaters, Nikki. No restraints, no time limits.", she goaded. She watched her tropical eyes narrow. Nikki knew her weaknesses, knew her strengths. And she knew that a certain flaw of hers was pumping up her strengths and ignoring her weak spots. "Killing anyone with that mark on their arm with no consequence. Anyone with one of their masks. Anyone closely associated with them. Practically a lawless state. The other governments know better than to mix in with the savage back-water places of Britain. It won't be on your records."

Nikki scowled, knowing Dorado was playing her desires and bloodlust against her. She turned her head to the side stubbornly, ignoring the smug, knowing chuckle Dorado let loose under her breath. They both knew what the violent Potter's answer would be.

"Flower,", the girl in question jumped in her seat. Flower knew all the exits from this room, hiding spaces, defensive nooks and crannies, all of it mapped out. A...Side-effect of their massive power, even split into three as they were. All were different. Flower's magic responded to her fear and anxiety, Nikki's to her ravenous bloodlust and savagery, and Dorado's was more persuasive, more savvy and slightly more clairvoyant in her quest for constant knowledge and information to better serve her and her sisters. Dorado smiled. "You would like to..._Help_, wouldn't you? And those Death Eaters...They deserve more than death, you know. You can finally play around with humans and Beings now, without fear of guilt.", Dorado knew that Flower wouldn't feel any guilt for using any of them, guilty or innocent, but the anxiety-ridden girl didn't know that. So, for now she could still hold that over her. Flower, while in her project-mode, was precise, exact. She didn't accept anything but _absolute perfection_. It was magnificent to see her while she was working. See how she transforms. Dorado shut her eyes, smiling softly. Her darling sisters. "Nothing bad will happen to _us_, of course. We are too powerful, too advanced in our magic, our careers, our ambitions for anyone to truly do damage.", when her eyes opened, they were sharp, electric. Her gentle smile seemed much more ominous. "We'll continue our discussion tomorrow. For now, ladies, think on it.", with that she stood from the orb-like floating chair. She was such a fan of modern magic fashions and trends, some of the most interesting things were available. She sighed to herself happily. "Come along. Keep to my sisters, won't you?", she directed this at the blond at Flower's feet, and the handsome young man that had originally approached Nikki. Two docile nods and she set off, a line of men behind her, trailing after her complacently. Nikki snarled.

"Tch. Fucking cunt.", she threw herself back sulkily. "You're going, aren't you?", she narrowed her eyes at Flower, who flinched. "Of course you are, you've no spine.", she scoffed. "So. Gonna mess around with a few?"

"I-if...If I can...", Flower muttered and Nikki glanced at her. Then promptly rolled her eyes, getting up and stalking off to blow off some sexual steam. Flower glanced at the handsome man, before cautiously setting her feet daintily on the floor. She would go to the greenhouses Dorado kept for the _(very rare)_ occasions that Flower came over. She listened to him follow her, but was unable to tell him off or ask him to leave. She winced back when she opened the ornate doors to the 'backyard', unused to the light. When in her cozy cabin, she spent the majority of the time underground in her labs, and even above the curtains were thick and charmed shut. Her almost sickly pale skin _was_ extremely sensitive to most forms of light as a result. Of course, there were potions and spells for that and she'd already cast them before coming to Dorado's sunny home. The sky was intense deep blue, clouds fluffy and perfect and sparse, and the sound of water lapping at the beach (also part of Dorado's property) reached even here. Flower heaved a silent sigh, gingerly making her way to very special greenhouses.

Having anticipated the possibility of staying longer than expected, she had everything she needed to keep herself busy with herbology and the like. She'd been recently playing with mandrakes and 'whomping' trees. So far, she hadn't found the right splice, but she was determined.

xXx

Nikki snarled, shoving herself down and impaling herself. This boy was too scrawny and not lively enough. Just laid there uselessly moaning like a little bitch. _Fucking_ hell, she should've have gone to one of the other islands and found a native islander. Someone _big_ and strong to hold her down and have his wicked way with her. She used the thoughts of a man like that, a demanding prick, to bring herself off. Of course, the boy finished before she could, and so she snarled, dismounting and shoving him off to the floor. Her face twisted in disgust and she cast a quick cleaning spell. Thankfully, Dorado was almost disgustingly perverted, and most of the rooms in her home had some manner of sexual toys in them. A quick mutter and wave of wand let her peruse the stock of the room she had gone into in an attempt to slate her appetite.

She idly noticed the slave boy bow, head touching the floor. His face, she knew, would be placid and doll-like in its emptiness. All of Dorado's boys were like that. Dull little dolls. _Disgusting_. Deciding to ignore her sister's lecherous tastes, as while her boys weren't in Nikki's taste, the toys were. Nikki herself didn't own anything like them- not when she could so easily go and find a man. Occasionally a woman too if she were feeling particularly needy.

Oh, but it wasn't really that she wanted a good old fucking. She was sidetracked by the offer of broadening her skills to Death Eaters. While she wasn't getting paid, she had no requirements and no limits because of the state Britain was in. Hell, even torturing for information- though Flower would make a better interrogator. Despite her shy, meek terror of most social interactions, she could be persuaded to see the prisoners as- well, as they were. _Prisoners_, and victims and test subjects.

Nikki shuddered. She may be the one killing mercilessly, but Flower was fascinated by torture and interrogation tactics, torture devices, potions, spells, methods. When Nikki got particularly bored, she would contact her normally demure sister for inspiration regarding ways to make people squeal or scream. She frowned, but was distracted by a particularly delicious looking toy. Shrugging and figuring that studying other people wasn't her thing, she let go of her deeper thoughts. That kind of thing was more Dorado's forte.

xXx

Dorado loved flying- there was never anything quite like it. Not even swimming. Flying was freedom- no, sweeter than freedom. It was _eden_. She grinned broadly as she flattened herself to the broom, spinning too fast down and just barely pulling up before she would have careened into the water. It still gave her a twisting rush, doing that, she would never get tired of it. She didn't have to worry about anything up in the air.

Sometimes she felt like she understood Dumbledore a bit more when she flew. She still contacted the man on occasion- though under heavy protection and false names. The older wizard had seemingly disappeared, but Dorado knew better. Sometimes they would even have tea. She hummed to herself contently, resolving the man to come to tea soon so they could blithely discuss the invitation back to Britain. She leaned back, pulling herself into a reverse loop, letting go to free-fall through the air. If there was a sensation she loved more than flying, more than being the almost omniscient master controller...

It would be falling. Weightless falling. It was soothing to her calculating, manipulative personality. A balm to her constantly ticking mind. Nikki had her killing to get her form of release, Flower had the throes of obsessed experiments, and Dorado had this. The original Psyche Potter release- flying and falling. Her world whittled down to those floating moments until her broom loyally caught her and she would be tossed again into the adrenaline of speeding through the air and racing with the wind across the waters. It felt like perfection to her. She didn't much care for much. Herself, and by extension her sisters. Power held in her hand. She was greedy, cold, sometimes cruel. But what did she care? It was a kill-or-be-killed world, literal or metaphorical. She'd dirtied her hands before, she'd ruined lives, she'd destroyed hopes and dreams, crushed those who were too much of a thorn in her side. That was why she was one of the best. That was why she and her sisters were thriving. She smiled serenely as her broom finally caught up with her, twisting to catch her in the most comfortable way possible.

She hummed lazily, dipping her fingers in cool water as she glided above the surface. Her distorted reflection smiled back at her.

**XXXXXXXX**

Bit shorter, but eh...


End file.
